Not on the map

Not on the map

It wasn’t here in this wood that we walked

that spring

where we wandered aimless

among the overpowering scent of bluebells

kicked up the aromas with our thoughts

startled blackbirds’ warnings

it wasn’t here

we talked of how to find a path

clasped hands

as you helped me across muddy ruts

and then didn’t let go

and we talked about whether we would or would not

could or could not find a way

all the while the purple scents

followed us through the trees

but it wasn’t here

you showed me

how moss makes velvet on tree trunks,

wild roses cascade out of hedgerows

how elderflowers scent the air

how dark it is under the tree canopy

how the sunlight shows through

it wasn’t here

This poem was first published in Picaroon #14 in January. See more here: https://picaroonpoetry.wordpress.com/2019/01/20/picaroon-poetry-issue-14-january-2019/

I sense you

Here’s one for Valentine’s Day. It’s from a sequence of love poems in my second poetry collection, due out Autumn 2019 with Indigo Dreams Publishing.

I sense you

when we make breakfast in the morning blue

in aromas of bread and coffee, I taste you

when we swim in the rising sea

salt waves swell over us, I taste you

as we walk through the pollen-full meadow

showered with flavours of spring, I sense you

on far mountains where we ramble

among the tang of ancient peat, I sense you

when the dark red wine swirls around

and ageing oak rises from the glass, I taste you

when there is dessert with sweet apple

and sharp redcurrants, I savour you

when the fire burns slow late into the night

woodsmoke weaves around us, I taste you

as we mingle our limbs and fall into sleep

between the midnight sheets,  I taste you

when water silvers in the vase and

rose perfume rises in early sun, I sense you